


Dario's Marvellous May

by TheGreatLibraryFangirl (Mazeem)



Series: Kink and Bone [7]
Category: The Great Library Series - Rachel Caine
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Play, Dom/sub, Domme Khalila Seif, Embarrassment, F/M, Finger Sucking, Fingerfucking, Frottage, Implied/Referenced Blow Jobs, LITERALLY, Leather Kink, Light Masochism, M/M, Masturbation, Oral Fixation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Restraints, Riding Crops, Sex on Furniture, Submissive Character, Submissive Dario Santiago, teacher/student fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:00:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24000229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mazeem/pseuds/TheGreatLibraryFangirl
Summary: Well, when you have the prompts of 'Leather' and 'Bare Skin' and you ALREADY headcanon Dario with a leather kink ... what's a writer to do?Five sexy little ficlets of Dario having fun with leather.Note: the 'Underage' warning is for the first chapter only, and contains Dario fantasising about a much older character.
Relationships: Dario Santiago/Khalila Seif, Jess Brightwell/Dario Santiago, Niccolo Santi/Dario Santiago
Series: Kink and Bone [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1444414
Comments: 13
Kudos: 4
Collections: Volume Two - May Event for The Great Library





	1. Leather - Belt

**Author's Note:**

> The "Leather" and "Bare Skin" prompts I am using for this can be found [here](https://eli-wray.tumblr.com/post/616855018339991552/eli-wray-eli-wray-volume-two-a-great)
> 
> Content warnings for entire fic: dominance/submission, leather kink, sexual contact, genital contact. See top of individual chapters for more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> !!Content warnings may contain spoilers!!
> 
> Content warnings: underage (Ink and Bone-era Dario is more than likely under 18, let's just be cautious here), masturbation, sexual fantasy, (teacher/student fantasy, fantasised unequal power dynamics, fantasised spanking, fantasised breathplay).

It was so late at night that it was in fact early in the morning, and Dario had just got to bed.

He was more than a little drunk. Hallem was always willing to share a bottle or two of anything, and over the past few weeks he’d drunkenly given Dario more blackmail material than Dario would ever use. He almost pitied the fucked-up bastard. 

The room wasn’t spinning around him, but he was certainly drunk enough to decide that now was the perfect time to masturbate. He did not give a single flying fuck that Jess might hear him.

He curled himself into a comfortable ball and grasped his flaccid cock. There were so many possibilities for his imagination. 

Khalila, of course. 

Izumi was very pretty, and had a tongue like a whip when she wanted to use it. 

That blond Burner-lite Danton had been creeping into his thoughts recently, too. He hadn’t quite figured out how that one was going to go yet, other than it was definitely going to involve Danton’s cock in his mouth. 

No, tonight he wanted a hot and easy fantasy. 

One person came to mind immediately. Captain Santi, their teacher.

The captain had never been anything but professional to him, of course, but Dario could almost smell the violence coiled up in this high-ranking High Garda veteran with his height and broad, muscular shoulders. He was older than Dario had ever found attractive before, but that just meant experience, didn’t it?

Fuck. Yes. This would do nicely. He started stroking himself.

Watching Santi demonstrate how to strip and oil a gun the other day had made Dario wander around in a fug of arousal for hours.

Today he’d been in the background while Wolfe taught. He’d kept tapping his belt. Dario had no fucking idea what Wolfe had said - he’d had to copy Portero’s notes earlier - but Jesus, he could remember every detail of that belt. Black patent leather, so glossy that it practically caught the sun. A neat, unobtrusive silver buckle. 

He wanted to lick it. At that thought, he leant over the side of his bed and scrabbled around on the floor for his own discarded belt. He rolled back onto his side, facing away from Jess’ bed, folded the belt in half and bit down on it. The familiar leather musk filled his mouth and nose and he tightened his grip on himself. 

Imagined Santi doubling up the belt and forcing it into his mouth, then what? Dropping his trousers to fuck him? Good, very good, but not quite what Dario was in the mood for … 

Imagined Santi doubling up the belt and slapping it threateningly into his palm. 

_ Yes. _

A shiver ran the length of Dario’s body as he pictured the stern, cold look on the captain’s face. 

“You weren’t paying attention today, Santiago. You’re the only one so … easily distracted.” Another hard thump of the belt into his hand. 

Dario chewed hard on the belt to avoid making a noise as he thought about how good that stiff, shiny material would feel against his arse. How much it would sting and burn, and put him in his place. If he was alone, he would have tried his best with his own belt, with his faltering aversion to hurting himself. 

Imagined Santi saying, “I know you can do better than this.” 

Santi took a step towards Dario and rubbed the belt against Dario’s cheek. The leather scent and taste grew overwhelmingly strong. Dario tried to turn his head, to get the belt between his teeth and lavish it with attention, but Santi moved it away. 

“There you go again. So easily distracted by your own needs.” He took another step closer, close enough that his nose brushed Dario’s forehead. Close enough that Dario could feel his erection. Could feel the gun next to it, as well. 

Drool pooled on Dario’s pillow as he sucked eagerly on his belt. He whimpered, then despite his earlier bravado, froze. His heart was beating too quickly to listen carefully, but he didn’t  _ think _ he could hear any movement from Jess’ side of the room. He just had to hope. 

He sure as fuck was’t stopping now; his cock was hot and slippery in his hand, and arousal was curling tight in his belly.

He rolled over onto his back for the finishing stretch. The bedsheet was only loosely draped over his lower half, and something about the feeling of lying flat on his back, half exposed, gave him the good kind of goosebumps.

Imagined himself saying, “I’m sorry sir,” to Santi’s stern face. “I can definitely do better.” He rocked his hips against Santi. “Let me show you, sir. Please. I know I can do it, sir.”

Santi let him slide to his knees and then, with the ease of fantasy, Santi’s huge cock was there, available, just kissing his parted lips, as Santi buckled the beautiful belt around his neck and pulled it fantasy-tight. 

“Better get on with it, Santiago. Better show me you can focus on someone else for a change.”

Dario stopped it there, where he always did, with Santi’s cock pressing against his lips, and threw himself into coming as fast as possible. 

He vaguely registered his noises, too many noises; bedsprings creaking, breath coming fast and loud, unmistakable slick slurping sounds of a wet cock, but quite frankly he didn’t care. 

Let Jess hear. 

Fuck it, let Jess - watch.

That thought caught him somewhere unexpected under the breastbone and wrenched him into his orgasm. 

That, finally, started the world spinning. 

He weakly flapped at the warmth on his chest and stomach with the sheet. His belt fell limply from his mouth, damp and covered in teeth marks. He’d have to hide it when he was done and throw it away tomorrow, go and buy a new one. Again.

That was tomorrow’s job, he thought, ramming it under his pillow and falling into loose, black, drunken sleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a very small chance that one or two people from tumblr might recognise this - yes, it's a partially rewritten snippet from over a year ago. This seemed like the perfect place to make use of it, finally.


	2. Leather and Bare Skin - Gloves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Newly-weds Khalila and Dario have fun with a pair of leather gloves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> !!Content warnings may contain spoilers!!
> 
> Content warnings for entire fic: dominance/submission, leather kink, sexual contact  
> Content warnings: nudity, anal play, teasing denial, finger-fucking

"I was thinking,” Dario said, slowly, not bothering to move.

“Were you?” Khalila carried on stroking his bare back. Her hand was encased in a soft leather glove. The well-worn black leather was warm with the constant friction of this delicious massage that had melted him so thoroughly into the bed.

Her other hand was somewhere else, and the smell of oil was getting stronger, so he roused himself enough to turn his head on the pillow.

“Will this ruin the gloves?”

Khalila laughed. “ _Now_ you think of that.”

“But I like those gloves.”

Reluctantly he rolled when she tugged at his hip, so that he lay curled on his side rather than flat on his stomach.

“You might be able to get the majority of the oil off, but given where this glove is going, darling, I don’t exactly think it’ll be functional for much else.” She made a thoughtful noise. “I’ll have to figure out a more granular tagging system than just fluid-bonded or not. I don’t want to accidentally put this hand in your mouth in a month’s time.” Her other hand reappeared, squeezing Dario’s arse, gloved fingers slick with oil.

Dario tilted his head back on the pillow in a minimum effort attempt to make eye contact. “Mm. Other hand in my mouth. Good idea.” He opened his mouth hopefully.

“Hm.” As Khalila’s oiled hand slid between his cheeks and rolled teasingly over and around his entrance, her clean hand took hold of his erection. “Is that what you want, is it? My greedy husband wants both ends filled?”

He groaned and shifted his hips around helplessly, wanting to thrust in both directions at once. She hadn’t been paying any attention to his cock previously, and her soft yet firm leather grip made him realise that he was closer to coming than he’d thought.

“Yes, please, oh most beautiful rose.”

She leaned into his field of vision and gave him an arch look. “So polite when you want something.” She giggled and gave his cock a torturously slow, tight stroke. Next, she pushed one of his legs further towards his chest, and started tapping his exposed entrance with one gloved finger.

He squashed his face against the pillow and whined, “Kha _-li_ -la!”

Each gentle tap reverberated straight up his spine. It made him feel simultaneously full of vibrating energy and deeply languid. Sweat began to spring up all over his bare skin.

“The fuck?” he said helplessly. Each touch made his entrance throb and pulse, as if trying to catch the fleeting contact and draw it in.

He’d never in a million years have guessed that simply tapping could wake his nerve endings and set them quivering. This was similar to when she used her mouth on him. This was going to drive him straight out of his mind.

He opened his mouth to say so, but what emerged instead was a heartfelt shaky, “Oh my god.”

“ _Allah Akbar_ ,” Khalila responded with a laugh.

“You gotta try this,” Dario mumbled. “’S gonna fuck you up too.” Another tap made him curl in on himself and groan. He felt swollen and empty at the same time; hot and melted and needy. “Please, flower. Please put your fingers in. Please.”

She leaned back into his field of vision and kissed him hard, plundering his slack, panting mouth with her tongue. When she drew back, she put her dry gloved hand on his cheek and rubbed her thumb over his lips.

He made a garbled sound and tried to chase her thumb, but she just cupped his cheek more firmly and tapped his entrance with her other hand again.

“Sorry,” she said, not sounding the least bit sorry. “I like teasing you.”

“Mm.” He licked his lips. They tasted faintly of leather. He wanted more of that. He wanted to have that taste in his mouth for the rest of the day. He stuck his tongue out to try reach her retreating thumb and whimpered when she drew that hand entirely away; both behaviours he would usually hate himself for. “You’ll tease me out of my mind, flower.”

“But my darling, you’re so fun to tease!” She beamed like an angel, then kissed him again. When she drew back, her usually soft light brown gaze was focused and hungry. Her words came out a little more quickly; “You love it. Don’t say you don’t. I’m not even holding your wrist. There’s nothing stopping you grabbing either of my hands and getting what you want. You love the tease. You love me deciding what you deserve. If I decide to stop right here, you’d let me, wouldn’t you?”

He shuddered all over with dual lust and horror at that idea. His neglected cock twitched and made more of a mess on the bedsheets.

How in the world had he gotten so lucky, to end up with such a woman?

“Yes. I’d let you.” He writhed on the bed. “But please don’t. Please fuck me, please?”

“Such language,” she said with a mocking little tut, and then just like that with no warning, she filled both of the burning, empty, desperate places inside him at once. Three fingers in his mouth, two in his arse. 

He groaned as the rich, earthy scent of leather filled his mouth and nose. His eyes widened as he tasted another element, familiar and intensely arousing in itself. His head whirled as he imagined the glove making a soft little pass over her silken lips to add her musk.

Greedily he sucked, curling his tongue around her leather-clad fingers, while down below she probed for his prostate and created slow, warm waves of intense sensation and pressure. Even the slight drag of the leather moving in and out of him merely added to the sensory buffet.

It was lucky that she’d gagged him too thoroughly for words, really, because he wasn’t sure he could summon anything more than a foul-mouthed litany of bliss if she’d commanded him to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have decided that these will be, very, very, very loosely, in a chronological order. So this is sometime fairly soon after they get married. 
> 
> I've also added this to my Kink and Bone series, since I'm definitely running off the same sort of timeline. Please check the rest of that out if you enjoy this - more of my kinky darlings is always being added.
> 
> I'm attempting to make each of these 1000 words - you will see from the wordcount that I'm not perfect! This is mainly due to giving up on making Word and ao3 have the same numbers ... I swear this didn't happen as much with 100-word drabbles, grrrr.


	3. Leather - Sofa

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> !!Content warnings may contain spoilers!!
> 
> Content warnings for entire fic: dominance/submission, leather kink, sexual contact, genital contact.  
> Content warnings for this chapter: embarrassment, sex with furniture

Dario liked leather, yes. A lot. To a degree that most people would have called it a fetish, yes, fine.

But this was still a bit much. 

When Khalila had looked at their old, about-to-be-swapped-for-a-new-one leather sofa with that very particular look that meant she was about to challenge him, he’d expected she would get him to sit or lie on it while she edged him. He’d quite liked that idea. 

But, no. 

“You’re going to climax without your hands, darling. You can use the sofa for assistance.”

And now here he was, in a really awkward position that made his thighs ache because one of the _many things_ wrong with this was that nothing was the _right height_ , rubbing his erection along the edge where the arm joined the seat. It gave him _a bit_ of friction. It was better than _nothing_. 

He was astonished and kind of appalled that he still had an erection at all, to be honest. He was fucking a _sofa_. Every time he thought about it too much, a stifling wave of embarrassment poured from head to toe.

 _Dogs_ did this.

Jesus motherfucking Christ.

“You’re doing well,” Khalila said, as if he could sense that his motivation was wavering again. Somehow, even though this was entirely _her fault_ , the reassurance still worked. 

She was curled up on the other end of the three-seater sofa, looking perfect and fresh and adorable - and watching him fuck the god-damned sofa with a dark, fascinated look in her eyes. 

That look made him shiver and tuck his hands more neatly behind his back. Maybe it wasn’t the absolute worst thing he could be doing. His exertions had warmed the leather and got his cock to the point of leaking, and he’d be flat-out lying if he claimed that hot leather and the smell of sex wasn’t arousing. 

“You’re getting there, aren’t you? Well done.”

He groaned. Her approval softened all the prickly edges inside him. Even the embarrassment settled from a sickening lump in his chest to a warm pool in his belly. 

“Thank you, _mestra_.” He thrust his hips with renewed vigour. 

The damn sofa crevice managed to be both too smooth for real friction and not wet enough to allow a smooth glide. If only his hands were free, he could … no, no, he wouldn’t presume he could touch himself. Could put a cushion there, maybe, to create a proper channel to fuck? Something. Anything.

Little frustrated noises fell from his lips. He let them. He knew Khalila loved them. 

That was what was important, after all. Yes, he could be enjoying himself in so many more superficially satisfying ways right now. But none of them would be doing something so utterly farcical that he could barely stand it, pushing himself and struggling _just because she wanted him to_. Letting him prove how much he cared about her. 

(More than himself. More than anything.)

His climax was starting to coil tight in his groin and automatically he looked at her for permission to come. She’d explicitly said the purpose of this was his orgasm, but that didn’t mean she would allow it the first time he wanted to. 

Khalila was a perfect picture of arousal; eyes half-closed, lips parted, hands wandering restlessly over her arms and legs. 

It brought him to a halt, this vision of beauty and lust, made him stare stupidly at her as he panted for air. 

He could stop now and be happy; he could never come again and it would be this picture he would use to torment himself with. 

She registered his stillness and made a concerned face. He tried to speak, but found that his throat was tight as if he might cry. 

In a flurry of motion, she came closer and knelt up high on the sofa. Gratefully he nuzzled his face into her neck. It made his position even more uncomfortable, but that didn’t matter. He squeezed his eyes shut, so that his world was only scent and touch; hers and the _damned_ sofa, mingling deliciously.

“Tap check, darling?” One of her hands stroked smoothly all the way down his spine.

“I’m fine,” he mumbled, kissing her ear, but obediently he flexed his hands and held them still. No tap-out necessary. 

“Good boy,” she said. That made him whimper. She was aroused and pleased with him. The absolutely perfect situation. He tried to nibble the skin behind her ear the way that she liked, but he was panting too hard to shape his lips properly. “You’re nearly done, aren’t you?”

He nodded. 

“Do you need any help?” Her hand curved lower, over his arse, and squeezed. 

He shook his head and tried to fuck the stupid fucking cursed sofa even harder, even faster. He wanted to get it right. He wanted to do what he’d been told to do. No hands. Only the sofa for assistance.

“I want to be good,” spilled out of his mouth before he knew it was even in there. He flushed even hotter all over, if that was possible, if he had enough blood in his body for that. His head was heavy and a little foggy, and he nuzzled further into her warm, fragrant embrace. He wanted to say something, but he couldn’t think of any more words. Only, _I want to be good._

“You _are_ good.” Her voice was husky now, a lustful tone that weighed comfortably on his mind like her hand pressing hard against his chest. She started dropping heated, frantic little kisses all over his hair and forehead. “Look at you, beloved. A sofa! You’ll do anything, won’t you? So beautiful. So willing. So _good_. My good boy. Come for me, darling, finish off for me. Give that to me.”

They hadn’t put any real effort yet into him coming on command, though he knew she liked the idea, but her breathless whispers of love and dominance in his ear severed the coil winding inside him just the same, and he moaned as he spilled all over the black leather.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to skip this, I just like talking about my own worldbuilding. 
> 
> Those of you who've read my Kink and Bone stuff before - or put up with me on tumblr - might notice a title change here; Dario calls Khalila "mestra" rather than his usual "my lady." That's not a timeline marker - not yet, anyway - it's just me playing around. I've always struggled with what Dario calls Khalila in scene. 
> 
> Mestra is Catalan for 'mistress', the feminine of mestre, 'master'. Exceedingly fun fact, all of those words, the English and the Catalan and so many more besides, all descend from Latin magister - which yes, is the second element of Khalila's job title, Archivist Magister.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> !!Content warnings may contain spoilers!!
> 
> Content warnings for entire fic: dominance/submission, leather kink, sexual contact, genital contact.  
> Content warnings for this chapter: blow job, loving insults, insecurity, illness mention

Dario wasn’t entirely sure what had happened. He’d come into Jess’ little bookbinding workshop, swapping insults with Anit as he passed her scowling in the stockroom, and said hello to Jess, and then … 

Wait, had he even said hello to Jess? Or had he just done that in his head and skipped to the next step? 

That step being wrapping his arms around Jess and crushing their mouths together. 

A good step, though Jess' jutting hipbones were distracting him a little. 

Jess wasn’t complaining either; his grip was tight around Dario’s waist and he was rapidly winning control of the kiss. 

Loath to allow that, Dario used his breathlessness as an excuse to separate their mouths. 

“Hello,” he said. Jess chuckled and rested their foreheads together. 

“You need to go abroad more often, if this is what it does to you.” He ran one hand up Dario’s new jacket. “I like this.”

“Well, you’re not having it.” Dario carefully patted the disturbed black velvet down until it all lay in the same direction again.

Jess tugged at Dario’s hair, very gently. It had grown a little wild in Spain. Partly just to annoy his father. “Did you miss me?” Jess teased.

Dario’s chest ached. He broke eye contact and tried to dive in for another kiss, but Jess’ fist pulled taut in his hair and halted him so close to Jess’ lips that he could lick them. So he did.

“You twat.” Jess licked him back. “Not answering that with words, are you?” He groped Dario’s growing bulge. 

“Maybe it’s not even you,” Dario shot back. “Maybe it’s all the leather in here.”

Jess raised his eyebrows and, disappointingly, relaxed his hand in Dario’s hair. “I’d almost believe that, with you, if it had been yesterday when I was covering the book boards. But there’s not much left in here, which you’d know if you could take your eyes off me.” He grinned smugly. 

Dario promptly stopped looking at him, though only to start mouthing at his neck. “It smells nice,” he protested, letting Jess decide whether he was still talking about their environs or not. 

“Nope. Definitely glue. Thomas complains about the glue all the time. Says it’s bad for my lungs.” 

“Everything is bad for your lungs, scrubber.” A weak response. Dario's chest tightened with residual anxiety, but he quickly relaxed thanks to Jess’ hand rubbing firmly between his legs. 

“Well, if you’re going to be annoying about it too, your royal insufferableness …” Jess withdrew his hand. 

Dario pressed himself tighter against Jess in retaliation, anxious suddenly that Jess might just leave him hanging. Was he being too forward, for once? 

Jess' erection pressing against his own made him sigh with relief. 

''Want a blow job? I believe I'm minimally annoying with my mouth full.'' He held Jess' hips tightly and ground their erections together, sucking hard on Jess' neck. 

''Careful, peacock, I only admit you're right once a week.'' Jess pulled his hair, properly this time, and Dario surged against Jess again, forcefully enough to push him back a step. ''Fuck, you're pushy today. Definitely missed me.''

Dario bit Jess' neck in revenge for that - and then Jess took half a step back and all of a sudden he'd forced Dario's knees to crumple. Eagerly he dropped to the floor with a thud. 

''Better?'' Jess asked with mocking cheerfulness as he shoved his cock into Dario's willing mouth. 

Dario managed to take the thrust without gagging, which was a delightful first. 

A weight disappeared from Dario's shoulders as Jess stroked his hair, as he tended to the familiar shape of Jess' cock in his mouth, Jess' balls under his fingers. 

Going back to Spain was always difficult, and going back to Barcelona and working alongside his father even more so. Going back to Spain, working alongside his father, and then discovering that Jess, Wolfe and Thomas had all come down with some sort of illness and no-one had told him? 

Well. He didn't think he could be blamed for feeling quite so out of sorts. 

''You're sucking me like I'm breakable, princeling.'' Jess gave him a sour look. 

Dario drew away, pulling the suction tight enough to make Jess' legs wobble. 'Cocks are breakable,'' he pointed out, just to be smart, then plunged as deeply onto Jess' cock as he possibly could. 

''Bastard.'' Jess grinned, all sunlight again. ''Don't remind me about your banjo string or even your excellent cocksucking won't salvage this boner.''

Dario snorted through his nose. He closed his eyes as Jess slid his fingers back into his hair and started gently rocking his hips. 

''I'm all right now, Dario.''

He looked up at Jess' understanding gaze and was glad that his mouth was already occupied so that he didn't need to respond.

Jess raised his eyebrows. Damn it. Not getting away with that, then. He reluctantly let Jess' cock leave his lips. 

''I'm glad you're all right,'' he said stiffly. Jess gave himself a stroke and rubbed the wet tip firmly against Dario's cheek. Dario shuddered at the implications there. Of marking. Claiming.

His heart pounded. 

''I got wound up,'' he admitted. ''I just wanted to crawl inside you, as close as possible.''

Oh, for fuck's sake. His blood ran cold at the incredibly awkward, cheesy, stupid thing he'd just said. He tried to pull away, to get to his feet, but Jess suddenly had both fists in his hair, holding him so tightly that he felt like he'd half scalped himself by the time he settled back down. 

''We can probably figure that one out.'' Jess let go of Dario's hair and gently put his cock back in Dario's mouth before inexorably pushing himself inside to the root. Dario blinked away tears and fought his gag reflex as he tried to keep eye contact. ''Are you still hard?''

Unable to nod, Dario quickly fingerspelled 'Yes,' in the air above him. 

''How about I ride you?'' His face creased in a grin. ''Might even find some leather scraps for you to sniff, or whatever you do.''

Dario rolled his eyes. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, yeah, I have no fucking idea what happened here. Jess and Dario did not want to have hot sex on some book leather. Jess and Dario wanted to have a talk about Feelings. 
> 
> Roll with it. Hope you enjoyed!


	5. Leather - Riding Tack

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologise in advance to anyone who knows anything about horses.

The sun was edging its way down the horizon. With it, the temperature dropped until Dario thought that he might actually make use of the unnecessary yet smart hunting frock coat that he’d brought. 

He climbed back onto his horse and went to fetch it. 

On the way back, he let the horse walk back up the hill. It was, understandably, quite tired after their long day.

Khalila’s eyes flashed as he drew the horse to a halt in their little campsite. He dismounted cautiously. What had he done now?

“Dario! You made poor Zeffie work again just for your coat?”

“It was barely half a mile!” he protested. “Don’t call it Zeffie.” He reached for the girth to undo it. 

“Oh, yes, Zephyros  Takhús,” she said in a mocking voice. “I will call you Zeffie if I want to.” She came close behind Dario and reached up to pet the horse’s mane. 

Dario jumped as her other hand landed in  _ his _ hair, petting him just the same.

“Zeffie’s been a good boy today.” Her voice was coy. 

Well. This was a way to distract him from dwelling on their irritating necessary entourage. 

“What about me?” He tried to shift backwards against her, but she moved away just enough. He was reasonably certain that he was reading her correctly. Sometimes she just toyed with him for fun. 

“I don’t know. What about you? Poor Zeffie, all his tack is still on.” 

Dario ground his teeth. But he could just send the horse back to its groom? Like Khalila had already done with her beautiful Arab horse? 

Right. Fine. 

He removed the saddle and set it aside, then reached for the bridle. 

“Pass that here.”

He did as he was told, automatically, and was rewarded by a firmer hand in his hair. Yes, this was going somewhere interesting. He had no idea when she’d got into this mood, but he wouldn’t complain. 

When he’d finished untacking, he turned around and drank in the sight of her, clad in riding gear with her hair uncovered and loosened from its very tight hard-riding style. 

She’d been beautiful all day, of course, laughing as she raced him, eyes sparkling as she watched her falcon dive for prey. 

But now the setting sun was behind her and she looked at him with a dark, calm confidence, and it was all … very different.

“Am I a good boy yet?” he teased. As if the answer meant nothing. 

Khalila plucked his riding crop from his pile of tack and touched it lightly to his chest.

“I don’t know. You’re not finished untacking.”

For a single, idiotic moment, Dario opened his mouth to protest. Then he understood. 

“Of course,  _ mestra _ .” He undid his waistcoat and placed it carefully aside. 

She flicked the crop against his shirt. “Faster.”

That made his fingers fumble on his shirt buttons, which made her grin. She wasn’t a sadist, she didn’t hit him to hurt unless he specifically asked. But she did very much enjoy, to use her phrasing, ‘keeping him humble.’

Reminding him of his place. The thought sent a surge of arousal through him. 

Once he was stripped bare, he put his hands behind his back and looked at her through his eyelashes. “Is this satisfactory,  _ mestra _ ?” 

She took his lead-in happily. “I expect more than satisfactory from you, darling.” 

She made him shuffle in a circle, tracing the crop all over his body. Made him stand perfectly still as she gently patted his balls and growing erection with the hard leather tip of the crop, teasing him until his cockhead peered out from its foreskin, hot and red. 

By the time that had occurred, the sun was much closer to the horizon and the colour was starting to bleach from the world around them. 

It all felt like a strange, wonderful dream.

“Almost satisfactory. Arms out.”

Bewildered, Dario did as he was told. A thin strip of leather looped around his wrists in a figure of eight, and she tugged them to make him follow her as she walked backwards. He’d taken several steps before he concentrated and realised that she’d removed the reins from the bridle to use them like this. 

Directed around by crop and reins, he thought. Well. 

“Are you trying to turn me into a mindless beast, flower?” he called, deliberately bold and proud. 

She struck out with the crop, hard this time, and he gloried in the quick, sharp heat on his stomach even as he tried to appear contrite at the ‘punishment’.

The reins fell slack as she closed in on him. Confused, he faltered in his step - 

Even more vulnerable to her twisting around him and knocking him off balance, letting him slam into the ground.

The ground? No, not quite. While he’d been attending to Zephyr, she must have purloined his nice frock jacket and spread it out on the ground like this. Waiting for him. 

She landed on top of him and beamed delightedly into his face at his choked reaction to her weight. God, she was so fucking sexy when she threw him around. 

She stole his open mouth in a hot, deep kiss, then murmured, “Arms up,” into his ear. 

Disappointingly, that meant her getting up again? He craned his neck to see what could possibly be worth that, only to receive another scolding, delicious tap from the crop.

His hands, placed neatly above his head, were tugged around a little. “Right. Try arms down.”

His hands caught barely a couple of inches off the ground, the thin leather reins biting in. 

He was fucking -  _ tethered _ . She’d directed him here like a horse and now she’d tethered him to the fucking ground like a falcon. 

Should he find that as hot as he did?  He pulled on the restraints again, just to feel them hold him down, and groaned aloud. 

She stood over him and gazed at him, slowly. Restrained. Naked. Erect. All for her. 

“Good boy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This did NOT want to write. And then it wanted to be LONG. and then they didn't even get to the sex!!
> 
> I will return to do a proper "Khalila and Dario go hunting" day out thing, I promise.

**Author's Note:**

> Please come and say hi and talk about the Library and these wonderful characters at https://thegreatlibraryfangirl.tumblr.com/


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